I Don't Want You to Die
by Griselda Banks
Summary: Collection of oneshots. "There was a day I realized I don't want you to die." Basically, a look into the various relationships of FMA's characters. Pairings and spoilers will be noted in each chapter, and suggestions are welcome for future chapters.
1. Al to Ed

**Spoilers: None**

**Pairings: None **

**Author's Note: This is an interesting excersize I made for myself. Each section starts with the sentence _There was a day I realized I don't want you to die._ I don't know if that's grammatically correct, but I like it XP Each section begins like that, describes the day, and then ends with a conclusion of the importance of that day.**

**They're not in any particular order, chronological or otherwise, but most of them go in pairs. For example, the first one is by Al, about Ed. The second one is by Ed, about Al.**

**I don't know when Al's birthday is, but I decided to make it be in spring sometime. Judging from the windy weather on the night their mother dies, and how Al says he's cold at her grave, I'd say she died in the fall. Al was nine when she died, so his ninth birthday was before Mom died. So...yeah. This is Al overreacting XP  
**

There was a day I realized I don't want you die, Brother.

It was one of those sunny, glorious days in spring, one of many that Risenpool sees. I was happy because my birthday was the very next day, and we were going to have a party. You, Mom, Winry, and Granny Pinako. We were all going to eat a huge meal, with a big cake. Nine candles were going to be on it, and Mom promised she would make blue frosting this year.

I woke up early in the morning, but you were still asleep. I didn't want to wake you up, but everything looked so fresh and wonderful outside that I couldn't wait to be out in that spring morning. So I dressed as fast as I could and let myself out the back door. Everything was beautiful and sparkling, the dew like diamonds on the grass. The sky was the color of Winry's dresses, the sun just a sliver of burning gold. I felt a wild pleasure to be out in this morning all by myself, not having to talk to anyone and not having to do much of anything but stare around at it all.

I ran through the dew-speckled grass, over the hill and down to the river. I walked along, listening to the birds as they woke one by one and began to sing with all their might. I stayed outside until the sun was all the way up, and then my stomach started to rumble and I ran all the way back home for breakfast. Mom was standing in the kitchen, stirring a bubbling pot of porridge. I made a face - it wasn't my birthday _yet_.

"Alphonse!" Mom cried in surprise, looking over my shoulder and seeing that I was alone. "Where's your brother? I thought he was with you."

"Brother's so lazy," I said with a little laugh. "He's prob'ly still in bed."

Mom laughed and said, "Well, go wake him up then; breakfast is almost ready."

I clattered up the stairs to our room and burst in, yelling, "BROTHER, MOM SAYS WAKE UP AND-"

But then I saw you: lying very still on your bed, your face so pale it was almost grey. I stopped shouting immediately; I could tell something was wrong. You only groaned feebly, keeping your mouth shut tight. I hurried to your side, murmuring, "Brother, what's wrong?"

"Al..." you muttered in a shaking voice, and then you were sick all over me.

I couldn't remember ever being more scared in my life. I'm sure I must have screamed. You were always so healthy; you hardly ever got very sick, and here you were, sicker than I'd ever seen you. "MOM!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. "MOM, MOM, MOM!!"

Mom came running and took control immediately. She washed us both up, took your temperature, and sent me down to eat breakfast. But I couldn't eat, because I was too worried about you. I sat on the landing for most of the day while Mom stayed with you, and I listened as almost every hour she helped you into the bathroom. I listened to the sound of retching and your weak sobs, always followed my Mom's soft, soothing voice.

Once, when you were sleeping, Mom came out and saw me sitting on the landing. She told me to run off and play at Winry's. There wasn't much I could do for you. So I went out the back door again and slowly walked through the grass, unable to believe that just a few hours ago I'd been feeling so happy. I was scared, Brother. Very scared. I can't tell you how scared. I thought you were going to die.

I didn't go to Winry's that day; I just wandered about by myself, going to all our favorite places to play and thinking of all the days we'd spent together. It had been such a short time, and I realized I hadn't been nearly thankful enough for you, Brother. We had fought so many times, and I'd told you I hated you more than once. I thought maybe this was a punishment for that. Maybe God was taking you away from me so I'd realize how important you were.

I wasn't excited that night, like I usually was on the night before my birthday. Mom told me to sleep on the couch in the living room, so I wouldn't catch whatever it was you had. Normally, I would have found this extremely funny, like a sleepover in my own house, but this only made me more scared than ever. What sickness could be so terrible that I couldn't even sleep in the same room as you?

The next day was my birthday. I played with Winry and Den, but my mind was back in the house with you and Mom. When we had vegetable soup for lunch at Winry's house, it only made me think of how much you would've liked it. I didn't ask for seconds like I usually did. That night, we had all my favorite foods, but I wasn't hungry. Even when the cake came out, all lit up with those nine candles, I didn't feel very happy. Mom kept on leaving the room to check on you, and every time she did I got a horrible sinking feeling, like I'd swallowed a rock. When I closed my eyes to make a wish before I blew out the candles, I wished you'd get better.

I tried to act normally when I opened my presents, and to thank everyone for the things they gave me. But when I opened your present, Brother, it was hard to swallow. You'd given me a little stuffed cat, with very soft fur. I buried my face in it and burst into tears. No one could understand why I was crying, but I couldn't stop. I knew then, as I cried into the fur of the stuffed cat, that I didn't want you to die. It didn't matter that Mom assured me you only had the flu. It didn't matter that you got better the next day and laughed at me for being so worried. I had realized that I didn't want you to die, and I still don't. I don't, Brother. I don't want you to die.


	2. Ed to Al

**Spoilers: None**

**Pairings: None **

**Author's Note: As you can see, the second section takes place before the first. It takes place sometime after that time they go rushing to their mother with those little dog things, and then they go to Winry's house and find out her parents died. So, they're already learning alchemy.**

Al... There was a day I realized I don't want you to die.

You probably don't remember it; you were only seven. I was eight. We'd been fighting. I don't remember why; probably something about who was taller or who was going to marry Winry. We started hitting each other, and I think I hurt you. You yelled at me, "I HATE YOU! I DON'T EVER WANNA SEE YOU AGAIN!!"

And I yelled back, "WELL I DON'T EITHER, SO THERE!"

You ran away, and I sulked under a tree, keeping my anger warm. Clouds came over the sun, and it started to rain. I came in, and Mom frowned at me. "Where's Alphonse?"

"Who cares?" I muttered, pushing past her.

She sighed tiredly. "Have you been fighting _again_?"

I didn't answer her, but I don't think I needed to. She could tell we had. Normally we're the best of friends, but when we fight, we act like we hate each other. I sat at the window in the living room, staring glumly out at the rain. I tried drawing a transmutation circle, but I couldn't. It turned out all squiggly. I couldn't do it without you helping me. So I tore up the paper and stared out the window again.

It rained harder than ever as evening came on. Mom opened the front door and looked out, saying worriedly, "If Alphonse doesn't come home soon, he's going to catch a cold."

Mom stayed there for a long time, waiting for you to come back. I cursed you under my breath for making her worry like that. You were just like Hohenheim, I thought. Leaving, making Mom worry, not telling us when you'd be back. I was still angry with you. I wouldn't admit to myself that I was lonely, and hopelessly bored. Finally Mom had to leave her post to get supper ready, and it got so dark I couldn't see out the window anymore. I stayed there though, frowning glumly.

Finally, there was a knock on the front door. Mom rushed over and I jumped up. But it wasn't you, it was Granny Pinako. "Is Alphonse at your house, Pinako?" Mom asked.

"No..." Granny said slowly, glancing at me and seeming to grasp the situation. "You mean he's outside on a night like this?!"

"He must be..." Mom said, biting her lip. "I can't think where he might have gone."

I knew. Of course I knew. You always go to the river after we fight. But suddenly my heart stopped, because Granny said, "Well, he'd better not be near the river. It looks like it's going to flood."

Before either of them realized what I was doing, I'd run past Granny and into the rain. They called after me to come back, but I barely heard them. You were by the river. You were always by the river. And it was flooding...

The river was twice its normal size by the time I got there. Dead tree branches were bobbing along as it roared past. I called your name as I ran along the river, but I didn't see you anywhere. You weren't in your favorite spot. Then again, your favorite spot was completely submerged. I stopped there and looked around in horror. What if... What if you'd drowned? What if the water had come up too fast, and you couldn't get out? Sometimes cows or dogs would get drowned when the river flooded, and they would be found down the hill at the dam when the water went down. Would you be the same? Would we find you washed up next to the bodies of cows and dogs and dead tree limbs?

Tears mingled with the rain on my cheeks. This was all my fault. If we hadn't fought, if I hadn't started hitting you, you wouldn't have gone to the river. You wouldn't be drowned. Worse than that, I realized that if you were dead, I'd never be able to apologize. I hated apologizing. I still do. But if you'd died and I'd never told you that I was sorry... I couldn't stand that. "AL!" I screamed. "ALPHONSE ELRIC, YOU COME OUT RIGHT THIS MINUTE OR I'LL NEVER TALK TO YOU AGAIN!!"

But then I heard a familiar voice right behind me say, "What's wrong, Brother? I'm right here."

I turned around, and sure enough, you were there. Soaked to the bone, shivering with cold, but _alive._ I couldn't help myself. I raced forward and flung my arms around you, knocking you to the ground. "Idiot," I murmured as I cried harder and harder, squeezing you as hard as I could. "Stupid, dumb idiot."

That night, as we lay next to each other in our bed, I looked over at you and whispered, "Al?"

"Yes, Brother?"

I turned my head away, feeling embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

There was a moment's silence, and then you whispered, "Me too."

That was an important day for me, Al. That was the day that I realized I don't want you to die. And I'm never going to let you die, Al. Never.


	3. Winry to Ed

**Spoilers: Episode 1, 3**

**Pairings: Possible EdWin, or it could just be friendship. **

**Author's Note: This one is set in Episodes 1 and 3. I took a few liberties at fiddling with the exact wording of the few lines of dialogue, and other than that there's not much to say.**

There was a day I realized I don't want you to die.

It was another dismal, rainy day, one where I stayed inside all day tinkering. These Risenpool days are always so slow, and each day is like the one before. But this one turned out to be different. I was helping Granny wash the dishes after supper, when suddenly I heard a scream. Den was barking like mad, and I rushed out onto the porch with him. Then I saw your house, all lit up with an unearthly purplish light. I didn't know what was going on, and neither did Granny, but she called to me, "Winry! Come back inside this instant!"

I could hear the fear in her voice. Granny can be very forceful when she's frightened, so I followed her back inside the house. But we didn't go to bed; we sat at the table and waited for something to happen. Somehow, we knew something would. That strange light meant something, and we would wait to see what it was.

I had just started to nod off when there came a pounding on the door. Granny only had time to slide off her chair onto the floor before the door burst open. A suit of armor was kneeling on the threshold, holding a boy in its arms. I gasped when I recognized you, Ed, because you were covered in blood and badly-tied bandages. Before I even had time to register this, a voice came from inside the armor's helmet.

"Granny!" it cried. "Please...Please help my brother!"

And suddenly I recognized that voice. Even though it sounded tinny and echoey in that helmet, even though it shook with fear, I knew that voice. "Al?" I whispered. "Is that you?"

Granny made a strange sound somewhere between a scream and a sob, and rushed over to get you inside. As she tended to your wounds, Al told us what you'd done. I didn't really understand it, but what mattered was that since you both did something stupid and desperate, you'd lost your arm and leg and now Al was nothing but an empty suit of armor. You were so weak and feverish, and Al was so quiet and forlorn. I didn't like it; I was scared.

Granny made me go to bed around midnight, but I lay awake on my bed for a long time. I kept on seeing your face in the darkness, drawn and lined with pain. I kept on hearing the echo of Al's voice saying tremulously, "Help my brother!" I realized that you might have died from that stupid transmutation. What if it had been something else you'd lost? What if your heart had been taken away? Or what if you'd been a bit slower about bringing Al back? What if he hadn't been there to bring you to us? You'd have bled to death, that's what. You'd have died.

I know you only wanted to get your mom back. I understand completely. When we heard that Mom and Dad had been killed in the war, I would've given just about anything to have them back. But don't you see? You can't make a decision like that based on your agony and grief, or you'll only make other people sad too. I realized that night that if you died, my whole life would come crashing to a halt. All that time, I was waiting for you to come back from your training so it could be like the old days again. I wanted the three of us to always play together and laugh together, to fight and cry and live out our lives together. But you, of course, had other plans.

Even though you disregarded me and Granny and went off on your journey without so much as a backwards glance, I still don't want you to die. You get into all sorts of danger as you search for a way to get your and Al's bodies back, and there are some days when I look out the window to the road from the train station and wonder if I'll ever see you again. I wouldn't know what to do if you guys never came back. Probably cry, or kill myself, or go crazy. 'Cause I don't want you to die, Ed and Al. I need you to live. I need you. So don't do something stupid that puts your lives in danger.


	4. Ed to Winry

**Spoilers: Chapter 47**

**Pairings: EdWin (though it's still possible that you could see it as just friendship) **

**Author's Note: This one's based on the manga Chapter 47, a very dramatic part of the story and one I liked immensely. The speech isn't completely accurate, because I wrote it without reference.  
**

There was a day I realized I don't want you to die.

I was already agitated that day. I was putting into motion my plan for catching a Homunculus. Behind my casual exterior, I was all pent up. I was on the alert for Scar. And then Scar appeared. It's never been exactly easy fighting him, and I'll admit that it's only because of my luck and my being a 'human sacrifice' that I've managed to stay alive so far.

That day was no exception. I found myself bleeding and panting and weaker by the minute, and the Homunculi still hadn't come to save their precious 'sacrifice'. In a lull in the fighting, Al started talking to Scar. I could tell he was trying to buy me some time, and at first I was grateful for the chance to catch my breath.

I forget how we got onto the topic of the people Scar had murdered. I suppose it makes sense; that man's got death written all over him. But suddenly things clicked in my mind, and I asked him if he'd killed two married doctors in Ishbal. I asked it at the top of my lungs, and suddenly I realized my mistake - too late. You were listening at the corner. You heard every word we said, and suddenly you found yourself looking straight into the eyes of your parents' murderer.

And I just stood there, and I couldn't do anything. I couldn't take back what I'd just asked him, and I couldn't stop the truth in his crimson eyes. I couldn't keep you from dropping to your knees in shock and then picking up a gun to point at Scar. "You have the right to shoot me," Scar said. "But the moment you shoot, I will see you as an enemy."

I knew what Scar did to his enemies. I looked over at you, and I saw that you weren't putting down the gun. All of a sudden I got so scared I could hardly breathe. "Put down the gun, Winry!" I screamed. "Don't shoot! Whatever you do, don't shoot!"

Everyone stood frozen, but my heart was racing. I've rarely been so scared in my life, and never because of you. But right then, I stared at you and I knew that you were going to pull that trigger. Then Scar would kill you for sure, and there wasn't anything I would be able to do to stop him. It's strange, but I'd never really thought of you dying before. You were always that girl who was waiting for us in Risenpool, and it seemed like you would always be there, waiting for us to come back. And suddenly I found myself faced with the possibility that you _wouldn't_ be waiting for us at the end. What would I do if we regained our bodies, but there wasn't anyone to go back to? What if there was no one to smile when we came back?

No; I _couldn't_ let that happen! You're the person I most look forward to seeing smile, other than Al. So I launched myself forward and threw myself in between you and Scar. I pressed you against the wall of the nearest house and made myself as big as possible so I could protect you. And I held down your hand that still held the gun, and I didn't let you shoot. I've never been more scared for you in my life, but I've never been more determined that I'm not going to let you die.


	5. Hughes to Mustang

**Spoilers: Episode 25**

**Pairings: Brief mention of HughesXGracia**

**Author's Note: The next one takes a scene from Episode 25 of the anime, and is exclusive to the anime (because, in the anime, Hughes stays in Central; in the manga, he goes to Ishbal too). Episode 25 is one of my favorite episodes!  
**

Okay, this is going to sound cheesy, but...there was a day I realized I don't want you to die.

That day started out happily. After all, the Ishbal annihilation was over. No more fighting. You'd come back to Central at last, and I realized I'd missed you a heap more than I could say. It's funny, how you don't miss people till they're gone. Anyway, I was going to visit you in the little flat you'd rented, and I was bringing an apple pie Gracia had made for you. We weren't engaged at the time, but boy is it hard to resist a woman who can cook! I knew you would roll your eyes if I mentioned that, but maybe you would be willing to share my happiness for once.

I suppose I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. I should've remembered that war changes people. When I got to your apartment, you looked so old and weary it was all I could do to smile cheerily and say, "I brought you an apple pie my girlfriend made."

You were so changed, so gaunt and tired. It made me worry. I looked around the room and saw transmutation circles scrawled all over the place in different colors of paint. "It's just as you see," you murmured quietly. "It's what they call a taboo."

All hope had left your voice; every word was dead and flat, emotionless, blank... What had happened to my best friend? Where was that mischievous, cheerful, determined young man I'd grown so close to in the military academy? As I looked at you, I saw that the Roy Mustang I once knew had died on the battlefield, slain by this desperate, ravaged man with bloodshot eyes and three-day stubble. I grabbed your collar roughly, hating the hopeless Roy Mustang for killing my best friend. "I don't understand alchemy," I said through clenched teeth. "But there is one thing I know: Those who commit a taboo-"

Instead of fighting back or struggling like I'd been half hoping you would, you simply closed your eyes and put your hand on mine. That, more than anything else, was what made me let go of you. "Don't worry," you said with a sad chuckle. "I haven't done anything."

"You were going to," I retorted sharply.

A rueful smile lifted the corners of your mouth. "A lot of people died... I mean, I killed a lot of people, you know."

"It was a war."

You looked away from me, as though to escape my gaze. "You weren't there."

"If you didn't want to kill people," I said impatiently, "you should have requested a desk job like me! Did you think you'd be able to help by becoming a State Alchemist and reviving some of the people you killed?"

"I don't know..." you whispered, staring at the ground.

When some people get scared, they become angry. I think I'm one of those people; I was so scared of the hopeless look in your eyes that I hit you roughly across the face. "Did you want to die?!" I cried. "There are easier ways to do that, you know!"

You glanced over at a revolver lying on a table nearby, understanding what I meant. "I couldn't do it," you whispered, "because I was afraid to die."

As I looked at you, the ruins of my best friend, a strong surge of...of _something_ washed over me. I realized that I really, really didn't want you to die. That's what's at the heart of my promise to work under you and push you up higher. I just don't want you to die. That's all.


	6. Mustang to Hughes

**Spoilers: Episode 25, Chapter 16**

**Pairings: None **

**Author's Note: The next section is relatively short. It's based on the anime Episode 25 and the manga Chapter 16. Again, one of my favorite parts. You could probably guess this was coming; every other fan of Mustang and Hughes seems to write a fic like this.**

There was a day I realized I don't want you to die.

That day was bright and sunny. Why? When I want a cheerful day with blue skies, invariably it's raining. But when everything inside of me is screaming and howling for a thunderstorm, the sun is shining to mock all the torment that plagues me. That day, I was too filled with those howls and shrieks to even notice what other people were doing or saying. I stood, I saluted as the coffin was lowered into the ground, but I was numb all through.

You were gone. I couldn't even begin to comprehend that. As I stood before the tombstone, long after even the family had left, I kept on expecting you to come and stand beside me. You would put a hand on my shoulder and say, "Hey. _You're_ still alive, aren't you?" But that's just the thing, Maes. I was alive, and you weren't.

I wonder every now and then how I could keep my composure, or even my sanity, that day. How could I stand there so calmly, looking so serenely down at your grave? Why wasn't I sprawled on the ground, writhing in pain and groping for some way out of the darkness?

My subordinate came to me then, as I muttered curses and useless threats to you for leaving this world before me. It was Lieutenant Hawkeye, the most loyal of all my subordinates. It was she, not you, who came to me as I stood trying to grapple with this horrible truth. I wanted you to come and tell me everything was all right, but you couldn't. Lieutenant Hawkeye had to.

I spoke to her of theories running through my head on human transmutation, mentally chiding myself for even thinking of such a thing. You would have hit me if you could've, and told me never to think of that again. I could hear your words in my head: _Did you want to die? There are easier ways to do that, you know!_ But...I couldn't do that. I couldn't kill myself for the selfish prospect of seeing you again. That would have made your death a meaningless misstep, and all your toils would have come to naught. I decided then to press forward, prove to everyone and myself that you did not die in vain, by achieving the goal you died to defend.

Suddenly, my vision went all blurry. I could hear the rain falling all around me, a soft, misty rain that muffled my thoughts. "Oh, no," I said aloud as I pulled my hat low over my eyes. "It's raining." I could feel the raindrops trickling down my cheeks, leaking out of the stormclouds held in my chest. I knew that day, as I stood before your grave in the sunny rain, that I didn't want you to die. But I was too late.


	7. Hawkeye to Mustang

**Spoilers: Chapter 60, as well as things mentioned that happen in the anime and manga**

**Pairings: Royai **

**Author's Note: At first I was going to just make up a scenario for this one, but then I remembered a cool scene at the beginning of Chapter 60 of the manga. When I read that scene over again, it seemed to fit right in with the rest of these one-shots, so I went with it. I also mention some things that happen both in the manga and the anime, so I'm pretending they all happened XP  
**

There was a day I realized I don't want you to die.

You might be surprised to hear when it was. It wasn't the day you went to confront the Fuhrer, and barely escaped with your life. It wasn't the day you were called before the leaders of the country to answer for not turning in Edward Elric. It wasn't the day you almost died fighting that monster Lust, nor the time you came rushing after us when the plan was for you to remain safely in Headquarters. It wasn't the time Scar showed up on that rainy day, when you were useless to protect yourself. It wasn't even a day on the battlefield in Ishbal, with danger on every side. You were in danger many times in Ishbal, when the Ishbalites came too fast and thick for you to finish all of them off, or when they circled you in on all sides, or when you were walking along with Hughes in the evening and a half-dead Ishbalite sprang up from the ground. No; the day I'm speaking of was years before that, before I joined the military and before the Ishbal uprising even began.

I was sad that day, because my father had died. We were attending his funeral. My father had never exactly been the ideal parent; I never felt I could go to him with my problems, seeking comfort or advice. But he was still my father, and I loved him despite all that. I shed a few tears, but I knew things would turn out all right. I could find a job and live comfortably enough on my own.

Things would probably have been vastly different if you hadn't been there as well. You had come to tell my father that you had become a soldier, and he died right in front of you, so you felt obligated to stay and help arrange the funeral. You were very understanding and comforting as we stood in front of the new grave that day, after everyone else had left. You told me that if I ever needed you, you could be found at the military. "I'll probably be in the military for life," you said.

My emotions were in a tangle. I'd known you for years, ever since you came to my father to be his apprentice. We'd never exactly been best friends or anything, but we had a cordial sort of acquaintance; I'd gotten used to seeing you around. Suddenly, I heard you talking about how you might be killed someday. You could guarantee nothing, you said. The life of a soldier is harsh. And all of a sudden, I realized I didn't want you to die.

You went on with what you were saying, talking about your ambition to rise up in the military so you could protect as many people as possible. I looked up at you with a little frown, because I could see that such a path would lead you through much danger. You looked embarrassed, saying, "Sorry. I ended up talking about my naive dream."

That made me smile; naive it might be, but your aspirations have always been beautiful. "I think it's a wonderful dream," I told you. "Can I entrust my back to it? Is it all right to believe in a future where everyone can live in happiness?"

That moment was when I decided that I would protect you at all costs. Your dream...I wanted to see it fulfilled. I showed you the tattoo on my back, the one my father had put there to hide the secret to his flame alchemy. I only showed it to you because I knew I could trust my back to you. I can trust you with anything and everything, with all I have and all of me. I can trust you because you told me of your 'naive' dream; you told me yourself that your ambition was to be given the power to protect the people around you. But to get to that point, you would first have to have someone to protect your back as well. Someone who would give everything to keep you safe. Someone who knew deep down inside that they didn't want you to die, and would do anything to prevent that. I became that someone, and that is why I've stood by your side all this time, protecting you and watching your back. Just because I don't want you to die.


	8. Mustang to Hawkeye

**Spoilers: Chapter 37**

**Pairings: Royai **

**Author's Note: Based on manga Chapter 37 (one of the more dramatic ones, I thought).  
**

There was a day I realized I don't want you to die.

Funny, isn't it? You've been in danger - mortal danger, sometimes - dozens and dozens of times, but it had never really occurred to me that you might die. I knew you were going into danger again, but I took it for granted that you would come back to me. You always had before, hadn't you? So I chattered away with you over the phone, keeping the line of communication open but encrypted as we'd agreed. Hughes had done the same thing for me countless times, chattering away so that if anyone _had_ been listening, they would stop out of sheer boredom. And no one suspected my mindless chatter that day either. After all, who would suspect anything of an innocent conversation between me and my girlfriend Elizabeth?

The few times we have these coded conversations for secret missions, I marvel at the change in you. All of a sudden your reticence is gone and you talk up a storm. You laugh at every other thing I say, and your voice is so much more feminine and fluttery. I begin to miss the crisp, business-like tones of Liza Hawkeye, and the respectful 'sir's you insert into your speech every now and then.

But aside from that...I was confident until I heard a bang right in my ear. "I heard a loud sound," I said, trying to keep my calm.

"A customer was bothering Jacqueline," you said with your airy little laugh, "so I gave him a little slap."

That made me smile. "You're so forceful, Elizabeth. That's what I like about you." I meant that, too. That part wasn't just another facade. I like that firm, unyielding strength in you, the strength that has kept you by my side all this time.

After a few more lighthearted comments, however, you said something that made my blood turn cold. "Uh-oh," you said calmly. "I'll have to get back to you later. A guest of honor is here."

A guest of honor... That could only mean one thing: a Homunculus. I heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot, and the muffled sounds of some kind of scuffle. "What's wrong?!" I yelled into the receiver. "Elizabeth! Hey!" And then a sudden vision flashed before my eyes: the bloody interior of a public phone booth. That image became your bloody corpse stretched out on the ground before my feet.

As I put down the receiver with a shaking hand, I knew beyond all doubt that I _did not_ want you to die. I _couldn't_ let that happen. Gaping pits seemed to open before my feet as I hurried through the hallways, great pits with nothing at the bottom but the emptiness you would leave behind if you died. How could I go on fighting? How could I even live without you?

I jumped into my car and slammed my foot onto the pedal as I swerved my way to the alley across town where you were all congregated. I cursed the engine and begged the wheels to turn faster, so I could make it in time. I didn't care that I was blowing my cover, didn't care that the enemy would associate me with this rebellious group. The only thing that mattered was that I keep you safe. You might ask me why. Why was such a thing so important all of a sudden? Hughes told me once that the reason is always simple, and it is. It's so agonizingly simple it makes me want to scream. I just don't want you to die, Elizabeth.


	9. Sig to Izumi

**Spoilers: Episodes 28-30 (and the corresponding manga chapters, don't know which numbers), and sort of the movie  
**

**Pairings: SigXIzumi **

**Author's Note: This section is about Izumi and Sig Curtis. I've always liked their peculiarities (such as how Izumi throws knives around and how Sig sleeps with his eyes open), and thought they were perfect partners for each other. The events in this section are based on the anime, the manga (I think), and an idea of my own. Also, I've taken the idea from the movie Conqueror of Shamballa that Izumi dies while still relatively young. This one won't have a companion piece to it, because I honestly can't imagine a scenario where Sig Curtis would be in danger of dying XP  
**

There was a day I realized I don't want you to die.

I've always felt protective of you. We used to have arguments when we were newlyweds, do you remember? You told me again and again that you could take care of yourself. You told me I was your husband, not your babysitter. Generally, I try to respect that. But you cannot deny that you are a woman. There are some things not even the strongest of women can defeat. I promised I would protect you from those things, and that has been a heavy task.

The first trial came unexpectedly. I was not prepared, so I could not protect you. Your father died, leaving you grief-stricken. The most I could do was hold you in my arms and let you cry. You apologized for being weak, but I said, "No, Izumi. The very fact that you can cry means that you are strong." I'm not sure you believed me.

My second trial came when you discovered that you were going to have a baby. I couldn't protect you from the pain and discomfort that riddled your body. I felt so helpless through the long months when you carried our child inside of you as he grew. I longed for the day when your discomfort could be past and you could hold our son in your arms with the proud smile of a mother.

But that day was never to come. Our son was dead before he was even born. You cried even harder than the day your father died, and said over and over again, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I tried to tell you that it didn't matter, that I would still love you even if you never bore me any more children. But I didn't realize how much you had been longing for this child, or how much you already loved him. I should have realized this, and seen where your tears of grief would lead you. But I was blind, and once again I failed to protect you. You tried to bring him back, and instead you damaged yourself beyond repair. When I rushed to your side, much too late, you could only whisper, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

As I sat in the hospital waiting room that night, I knew that I didn't want you to die. Where would I be without you? What purpose would remain in my life? I would have been content with only you for the rest of my life. But you wanted a son, and I could not protect you at all. I couldn't protect you in the years that followed either. You were plagued with that strange illness, and I could do nothing. Nothing. You suffered, and I could only watch helplessly.

So now, as I sit by your bedside and hold your hand, I know that I don't want you to die. The doctors say you don't have much longer to live, that it's a miracle you've lasted this many years. But I know how you've survived: you're strong. So much stronger than I. I've never been able to protect you, I can see that now. Not once. I couldn't protect you before, and I can't protect you from death now. All I can do, all I've ever been able to do, is look on helplessly. I don't want you to die, Izumi, my love. But there's nothing I can do about it. All I can hope is that you will find it in your heart to forgive me of my weakness. And please...wait for me on the other side.


	10. Hohenheim to Trisha

**Spoilers: Chapter 68 (?)**

**Pairings: HohenheimXTrisha **

**Author's Note: Okay, so this one's about Hohenheim. He's a very mysterious character, and I've been itching to get a chance to write him. I've tried to keep this applicable to both the anime and the manga, because I like both versions of Hohenheim's story, though I added in the bit from the manga about Trisha's last name being Elric, rather than Hohenheim's. Written just after the release of manga Chapter 68.**

There was a day I realized I don't want you to die.

I was trying to run away at the time. I had become frightened, old as I am, and so I ran as far away as I could. Yet no matter how far or fast I ran, I could not shake off myself. Every day, every time I opened my eyes and looked down at my hands, I was confronted with my own monstrosity. A monster, that's what I am. I am no longer human. I tried to hide that, to deny it, to pretend I was normal. But every time I looked at the simple countryfolk around me, I could feel the accusing glares they would cast at me if they knew. I couldn't look anyone in the eye for long without feeling ashamed.

I love humans, for I can remember when I used to be human like them. There was a time when I could laugh easily like they can. But every time I try to smile and laugh like them, I remember...and I am ashamed. I envy their joy, but how can I covet it so? I do not deserve to be joyful like the human I am not. And as I entered a remote village in the hills of the East, as I looked at all the happy faces around me, I could only feel the guilt simmering inside me. I had escaped from...that person...but that did not erase what I had already done, and what I already was. Even so, even though I repeated all this to myself over and over again, I didn't leave that little village. I couldn't. Something held me back; I wanted with all my heart to share in a bit of the joy around me even though I knew that was selfish and irrational. So I booked a room in the village inn.

In the bar, I met a woman I had seen years ago in Rush Valley. She was an automail mechanic named Pinako Rockbell, and we had struck up a sort of friendship with each other during the short time I had been in Rush Valley. I liked her for her feisty, uncompromising manner. She was stubborn, and had a temper, but she was a fighter at heart. I must have seen a bit of myself, or a bit of what I once was, in her, and she in me. So Pinako greeted me jovially and laughed at the coincidence that had brought us together here in the little village of Risenpool. I learned she had moved here to raise the small family she had begun in Rush Valley. Her daughter had grown up and married a doctor, and together the young couple practiced medicine in the village.

As Pinako led the way to her house, I realized how much she had aged since I had seen her last. Her hair was grey and she had begun to shrink into a wrinkled old lady. And I had noticed the surprised look she gave me when she first saw me, for my appearance hadn't changed a bit. That was when I realized how I would remain practically immortal while those around me grew up, aged, and died. And that made me tired and sad, like a mountain in a sea of rapidly wilting flowers.

The first time I saw you was just as Pinako and I crested the hill. Two quaint, cosy-looking houses, one yellow and one white, sat comfortably a short walk apart from each other on the top of the hill. I looked up into the tree in the front yard of the white house and saw you, a young woman with brown hair and a dark blue dress, crawling out onto a limb and trying to coax a frightened cat to come down. "Trisha Elric," Pinako told me when she saw me looking. "Ever since her parents died, she's sold her baking in the village to make a living for herself."

But before Pinako could fill me in any more, I heard a cracking sound and a scream. The tree branch you had crawled out onto was breaking under your weight, and you had slipped off so you were only hanging on by one hand. Before I had even stopped to think, I had broken into a run towards the tree. I clapped my hands together, and the branch fitted itself back onto the tree. But this startled you so much you let go of the branch, and you fell down - into my arms. As you looked up, surprised, into my face, I got my first close look at you.

You have always been beautiful, Trisha. Your smooth brown hair, your sparkling silver eyes, and the gentle blush that spreads up your smooth neck to your cheeks. You were so beautiful in that moment, your eyes wide with surprise and that blush rising up your cheeks, that I couldn't help smiling at you as I set you back onto your feet. You seemed speechless for a moment, then you burst out, "Thank you, sir!"

"It's Hohenheim," I told you, cherishing your sweet, gentle voice like the kiss of morning sunlight.

Generally, I don't believe in love at first sight. Love is not something that can suddenly spring up out of nothingness; it must be nourished over a long space of time. But if love in all its fullness cannot be born in one moment, I think my love for you _began_ the first time I looked into your eyes. You invited Pinako and me into your home as thanks, and as we sat around your kitchen table drinking tea and eating the sugar cookies you'd baked, I couldn't keep my eyes off you. Your every movement spoke of an inner beauty ten times greater than your outward appearance. I do not think anyone is completely pure and free of fault, but compared to my own soiled conscience, yours was as white as a sheet. That's probably what made you so attractive.

Pinako cackled good-naturedly at me after that visit, calling me a "star-struck lover", but I didn't care. Just knowing that I _could_ love with this monster's heart gave me more peace than I had felt in decades. I came to call on you the next day, and you welcomed me with such a wide smile that I felt ashamed once again. I didn't deserve you at all, yet I greedily drank in your every word and smile. We talked for hours, till I knew you all the way through. You were transparent, like a crystal glass, but I remained a foggy mirror. I couldn't tell you too much about myself without revealing what a monster I am, and what would you think of me then? I desperately needed your approval and your love. It shocks me sometimes to think of how long I had gone without really being loved.

Some people would call our courtship rushed, or say that I never really loved you, but that is far from the truth. Every moment made my love for you stronger, and every morning when I woke I would look on the day before and realize that compared to this day, what I called love was but a passing daydream, a farce. By the third day since we had met, I made up my mind: all or nothing. When I came to visit you that morning, I asked you, "Patricia Constance Elric, will you marry me?"

The familiar rosy blush crept up your neck to your cheeks as a smile brightened your face.

But I held up my hand before you could respond. "Before you answer," I said, "I want to tell you something. It is sure to influence your answer, but I want you to know what you would be agreeing to. I don't want to endanger you in any way, Trisha. I don't want you to die." And so I told you everything, starting from the beginning and continuing on to how I'd run away like a frightened child and found my way to Risenpool. It took the better part of an hour to tell it all, because I didn't want to leave anything out. I wanted you to know everything, for you never hid anything from me either.

"Well?" I asked when at last my tale was done. "What do you say now? Do you want to marry a monster?"

By this time, you had your hand over your mouth and tears were sparkling in your silver eyes. "Hohenheim..." You whispered, taking your hand away from your trembling lips. You wrapped your arms around me and kissed me on the cheek. "I do. Of course I do."

As we stood there, arms around each other, I found myself crying. You, the one person I had trusted enough to tell my secrets, had accepted me. In your eyes, I was not a monster. In your eyes, I was a human. More than that, Trisha, you loved me. I'll never be able to repay you for that, yet you repeatedly insist that you need nothing in repayment but my love. I don't deserve this joy I feel when I'm with you. But I've never felt safer, never more protected, never happier than these days I can spend by your side. And for that reason, I don't want you to die. So then...Trisha, why did you leave me?


	11. Trisha to Hohenheim

**Spoilers: Chapter 68**

**Pairings: HohenheimXTrisha **

**Author's Note: The following section is Trisha's thoughts while she's dutifully waiting for her husband to come back. I'm following the manga with this one, so Trisha knows Hohenheim's secret and his inner struggle about his "monstrosity".**

There was a day I realized I don't want you to die.

No, maybe that's not right. I knew you couldn't die. I never had to worry about you getting hurt, with that body you have. But I've seen you in pain so many times...

You're a regular old softie, you know? On the day you told me your secret, you burst into tears when I didn't scream or try to run away from you. But how could I? How could I leave you alone when you were in such pain? You seemed surprised that I could still love you even when I knew what you were, but that shouldn't be surprising at all. My perception of _what_ precisely you are has changed, of course, but nothing is different about _who_ you are. And that's what I love about you: _you_, not your body or your identity. And whenever I tell you that, your lip starts to tremble like a small boy's.

Speaking of boys, I'll never forget the look on your face as you held each of our sons in your arms for the first time. That look of tenderness and slight disbelief... "Well?" I asked you when you held little Edward. "Is he a monster?"

"No," you whispered. "He's perfect, because he is your son."

"He's as much your son as he is mine," I retorted. "Maybe even more so; just look at him." Edward has your eyes, your hair, even the same slight pout about your mouth when you're thinking. You smiled a little as you looked at him and realized this, and then you started to cry.

We went through the same discussion when Alphonse was born. "Is this the child of a monster?" I asked you as I calmly handed over our second son.

You didn't answer this time; you understood what I was trying to tell you, and you were too busy gazing at the little bundle anyway. Alphonse blinked his beautiful grey eyes up at you, and then you raised your own eyes to me. For once, hope was kindled in those golden furnaces, instead of self-loathing and guilt.

I know there is a pain deep inside you that never really leaves, and it's one I don't quite understand. But oh! how I long to take that pain away. I've tried convincing you you're no more of a monster than I am, but you can't quite shake that feeling off. You carry so much pain with you, and all you want is to be able to live normally with your family. But there are things you must do before that. I understood that when you told me you were leaving, and when you asked me to promise that I would wait for you.

I try to stay hopeful and patient, but so many times these days I look up from what I'm doing and wonder where you are. Where do you lie down at night? What if you are in pain, self-inflicted pain, and I'm not there to dry your tears? When I wonder that, I just wish that you would come back home. Because I don't want you to be in pain. I know you can't die, not yet anyway, but I don't want you to die if I'm not by your side.


	12. Scar to Scar's brother

**Spoilers: None**

**Pairings: Mentioned Scar's brother X his lover **

**Author's Note: It took me a while to come up with a scenario for Scar to decide he didn't want his brother to die. It's obvious that he loved his brother, because his whole vengeance thing kinda hinges on his brother dying, but it was difficult pinning it down to one occurrence.**

Oh my Brother...there was a day I realized I don't want you to die.

I've always looked up to you, for you are my elder, my superior in so many ways. The firstborn son of any family deserves respect and regard, especially from his own brother. Do you remember how you used to play with me when I was small? You didn't have to do that all the time, but you kept me company and played the games I wanted to play. And when you asked me to come along with you on various occasions, I was more than happy to join you.

So when you asked if I wanted to help you study the night sky out on the dunes, I immediately agreed. You were always investigating, seeking out the intricacies of Ishbala's creation. I believe we were still teenagers at the time, so we had to ask permission first, but it was granted to us. Soon, we were loaded with supplies for the night, and trudged out to the place beyond the city you had already designated. It was on one of the larger dunes, and provided the perfect place to watch the heavens. There was a large rock that slumped over sideways, creating a shelter where we could wait until the sun went down.

We set up the telescope and took turns looking through it, recording bright stars, dim stars, moons, constellations. My mind was filled with swirling white spots, my heart with the wonder of what Ishbala had made. It must have been towards morning when you said, "Maybe we should stop for the night. We've recorded so little, but there'll be other times, right?"

My heart lifted at the thought. So few were the times we could spend alone, just the two of us - especially since you had befriended that dark-haired girl that made my heart burn inside of me. But you never neglected me; it seemed that every few weeks you would seek my company for this or that. Truly, you were a wonderful brother.

The two of us lay in the open, on the sand, looking up at the stars twinkling down on us. I do not remember what we spoke of then; all I can remember is the way you broke off what you were saying with a sharp cry of pain. We both sat up quickly, and you were clutching your arm. I could see two small holes that had punctured the skin, and understood what had happened as soon as I heard the rattling beyond you. Coiled back and ready to spring was a huge rattlesnake. I remembered what I had been told, about how you can keep a snake from biting you if you grab it just behind the head. Driven by fear bordering on panic, I shot my hand forward and grabbed it just behind the hollow in the middle of its head.

Grabbing the pocketknife we had brought with us, I killed the snake by cutting off its head. Then I threw the carcass onto the sand some distance away, forgetting one crucial thing: decapitated snake heads still bite. I let out a cry of my own and drew away carefully from the snake. You had somehow managed to tie a makeshift bandage around your wound, and helped me bind up my hand as well.

"What are we going to do, Brother?" I asked, my hand throbbing.

"We're going to wait here," you said calmly, as though this happened every day. "We will wait until they send someone out to find us."

"But...it could be days until they find this place! We never told them _where_ exactly we were going." So then I made a decision. "We're going to go back to the town, Brother."

"We can't do that!" you said sternly. "The poison will only spread faster if we walk."

I grabbed your arm and snarled, "Then we'll crawl."

I could tell you didn't approve, but you followed me as I made my way down the side of the dune. The going was rather easy, as we simply had to slide most of the way. Looking back now, I realize that I was afraid, much more afraid than I would have admitted. That was why I refused to listen to reason and endangered both of our lives.

We crawled over the sand for hours, with little apparent progress. We hadn't gone far away from the town, but every minute slowed down our movements. My hand went numb, and the numbness slowly spread up my arm, towards my chest. The sun rose, only adding to our misery. I couldn't even lift my head to see how close we were to the town. At some point you came to a stop, breathing heavily. Perhaps your bite had been deeper than mine, or maybe your resistance was lower; whatever the case, I could see that you were no longer able to go on by yourself. So I grabbed your shirt with one hand and continued to push on. I probably only moved a foot in one hour. I had no perception of time, and the numbing poison seemed to be spreading up to my brain so I couldn't even think.

I must have blacked out at some point, for the next thing I knew was that I was lying on a bed in the hospital. I found out later that I had made it almost to the outskirts, but we were barely found in time to save us. That first day, as I lay in my hospital bed and listened to your haggard breathing in the bed next to me, I realized more clearly than ever before that I don't want you to die. You are my Brother, the Brother given to me by Ishbala.

Sometimes I think I was given an older brother to reign in my angry, rash tendencies. As we grew up together, as we passed through adolescence, you were there to teach me how to become a better man. Sometimes, as I walk this path I have set before myself, I wonder what you would say if you could see me now. My dear dead Brother, you would be disappointed in me, I know. You wouldn't want me to seek vengeance. But even knowing that...I can't stop now. I don't want my Brother to be dead, and since he is...I will never forgive or forget. It's because you're not here to stop me. I've always acted wildly when I was afraid or angry or upset. So...I'm sorry, Brother.


	13. Scar's brother to Scar

**Spoilers: Episode 40**

**Pairings: Scar's brother X his lover **

**Author's Note: Well, this one-shot went off in a completely different direction than I was intending it to. I think you can really tell the similarities between Scar and his brother in these last two ones.**

There was a day I realized I don't want you to die.

We have had a rather turbulent relationship at times, have we not? When we were children, we would play together, but as we grew older our lives seemed to be slowly separating, like a loose seam. I became a teacher, you a warrior priest. We still saw each other frequently, but something had changed. Maybe it was because our parents had died, or maybe it had something to do with my beloved... I know not.

When she was alive, I didn't notice, but after she was gone and all hope of her ever returning was dashed, I realized how often you had looked longingly at her. Your red eyes would burn like live coals – out of ardor, not anger. Your smiles were always forced and sad, and sometimes you quietly refused to be with us. I saw the pain in your face when the news reached you that she had died...and I knew that you had loved her as I had.

In my years of exile, I had a great amount of time on my hands. Too much time. Every day, I thought again and again of the look in your eyes when I came to you and said, "She...is gone." And I kept on seeing your teeth clench and your eyes harden when you discovered that I had used the Great Power. As I lay down each night, committing myself to Ishbala's grace (though I had fallen from it), voices whispered in my mind what I knew to be true but could not accept: That I had caused you nothing but pain.

I knew when I finally returned that you hated me. I hope you'll believe me when I say that nothing was more painful than knowing that. I could live with the rest of our people hating me, shunning me, cursing me. But not you. I avoided you, because I could not stand the thought that I might come face-to-face with you and see that hate in your eyes, looking right back at me...accusing me...

I threw myself into my work. The only reason the others hadn't executed me on the spot was because of the war (and, I told myself, because of the slight hope that I would be able to save them). I had to prove that I was more than just an exile. I had to save my people. In addition, I found that the harder I worked, the less I dwelt on the anger in your eyes, or the fear that we would meet one day.

That day came despite how much I dreaded it. The worst day of my life – today, actually. The day I realized just what I would have to do if I was to make the Philosopher's Stone. The tattoos on my body were complete, and I could feel the lives of my fellow Ishbalites writhing beneath my skin. And it was not enough to take the lives of those who were slain in battle. No; I saw how incomplete the Stone was within my flesh, and I saw just how much death was required. To save Ishbal, I had to destroy it.

I looked at my hands, at my chest and legs, and everywhere I could see the black lines I had drawn. In those black lines, I could see the faces of all those I had taken into my flesh. They looked at me, sad, pained, angry... Just like your face, my dear brother. And I couldn't stand it. I screamed at them to be quiet and go away, to close their horrible red eyes, but they remained. They remained, just looking at me; they're still there, looking at me, angrier by the minute.

Yes, I know. I'm mad.

I think I've always been mad, little brother. Am I mad to say such a thing? No. Haha. You're the one who must be mad, for suggesting that you didn't know I was mad all along. I was mad for focusing on my own happiness with my beloved, and not caring that I was causing you pain. I was mad for chasing after her when Ishbala had drawn her into His loving embrace. I was mad for thinking of the Great Power, for seeking the Philosopher's Stone, for doing all these things that have caused you to despise me. And I am still mad, because I do not put an end to it. I am mad because I am afraid, and I am afraid because I am weak.

You were always the strong one, little brother. Isn't it funny? Usually, it's the other way around. I am the older brother; I'm supposed to protect you. But you were always the one who protected me. I realized today, when I wandered outside, not even realizing that I was naked, nor that shells were exploding all around me, that you protect me from my madness. When you are with me, your strength and clarity can keep the madness at bay.

It was then that I understood how much my madness had progressed, and why. In my exiled years, you were not there with me. You could not keep away my insanity. And because of this growing madness, I imagined that you hated me. But when we finally met face-to-face, as I had been dreading we would, I saw in your eyes only sadness and concern. You wanted to save me, but alas! It is already too late, little brother. I have been lost to the madness; the black marks decorating my body are a testament to that.

I am a broken man. I trudge through the sand with your strength, not mine. As the State Alchemist approaches and annihilates those with us, I can do nothing but slump down into the sand. I hear an old man shout at the State Alchemist, "You're mad!" and I feel like laughing. What does that man know of madness? He may be simple and base, yes, but not mad. Madness is when you cannot distinguish reality from hallucination, when you cannot escape from yourself, when your mind devours you from the inside out. Yes. That means that everyone is mad. Hahaha. It's no wonder that I'm mad; just listen to me! If everyone is mad, how can I say that I am mad and another man is not? If everyone is mad, does that make them mad, or sane? If everyone were sane, would that not make them mad?

But these questions must be saved for another time, for you are screaming. Surely that is not only my hallucinating brain deceiving me. No, I am certain that is real blood gushing down from your forehead and from the stump of your right arm. And as the State Alchemist takes a step towards you, ready to finish you off, I suddenly realize something: I don't want you to die. How could I have not seen that before? Ah, how selfish I am!

No, dog of the military. You will not hurt my brother. I will protect him as he has always protected me, and for once I shall be in my proper place as the older brother. I don't want him to die, not him, not my brother, not my only little brother!

_What is that pain?!! That horrible pain, as though my muscles are being torn from my bones?!_ No, no, I know that pain! That pain that means more lives are entering my cursed body. But so many more than I have inside me. More faces are added to the ranks of the staring, accusing lives just under my skin.

At least the State Alchemist is leaving now. But you are defeated and dying, your lifeblood pouring out over the sand like a precious spring, welling up and flowing out from the ugly stump of what used to be your arm. I have studied a little medicine, so I can see that the wound on your forehead is not so grave. It might scar, but the blood is already congealing. As for your arm...you will not live long with a wound like that.

And suddenly...my mind is clear. Clearer than it has been for years and years. Even this close to death, you are keeping the madness at bay. I only pray that I will live long enough to thank you for it. You may curse me in the future for damning you with the lives I am pushing into my right arm, but that cannot be helped. You are _not_ going to die, not if I can help it.

I am not mad anymore, though some might say that severing one's own arm and attaching it to one's brother is mad enough. I am not mad as I lie by your side, bleeding out my life on the sand so that you will not. For I am your older brother, and it is my duty to protect you. I have neglected this duty for long enough, so let me accomplish it now in my final moments. And even as I triumph in the knowledge that I have saved you, I acknowledge that you are even now protecting me from my madness. As long as I know that I love you enough to do this, I can know that I am not truly mad.

"No!" you scream as you realize what I have done. "Why, Brother?! Why have you done this?"

As your face slowly blurs, I smile and reply, "I didn't want you to die."


	14. Al to Winry

**Spoilers: None  
**

**Pairings: None**

**Author's Note: This one is from Al to Winry. I decided not to do one from Winry to Al because she kind of already did that in her one to Ed. (Not really, but meh. I'm tired of coming up with over-dramatic childhood accidents.) This isn't meant to be romantic, just so you know. EdWin is canon XD**

**Written on request for Syolen.  
**

There was a day – well, night, actually – I realized I don't want you to die.

You may not know how I pass my nights, but it goes like this: I wait till my brother's asleep, and then I fill the rest of the night with thinking. Brother processes things by thinking out loud, but I've always processed things quietly, by myself. Sometimes my thoughts at night are happy, especially when I remember the 'good old days,' when Mom was still alive and Brother and I were still in Risenpool.

But more often than not, my thoughts plague and haunt me, hounding and accusing me in the darkness of the night. One night in particular, I was thinking about you for some reason. You've done so much for us in past years. You gave my brother a new arm and a leg to walk on, without which we would never have been able to even start this hopeless quest we're on. You continue to fix his automail, no matter how many times he trashes it. You always seem to have a gift of oil or something for maintaining my armor, as well.

And you give us even more than simply care for our bodies. Your cheerful smile warms my heart – wherever it may be. It's more comforting than you could possibly know to be assured so completely that we have someone who loves the two of us like family. I'm just a child, thrust out into the cold, harsh world with only a brother and a purpose to sustain me. There are many times that I lie in my bed at night, staring up at the ceiling and wishing we could go back to the days before any of this started, or longing for the day we can return to Risenpool once and for all.

There are some times I feel very alone, even with my brother at my side and our many friends nearby. I suppose it's got something to do with not being able to experience life to the fullest. But somehow...when I'm with you, when you're smiling and laughing in the way only Winry Rockbell can, I feel...comforted. There are very few people I've met in this world that accept me simply as I am – the people who can see past this forbidding iron visor into the soul of fourteen-year-old Alphonse Elric. My brother is one of them, and so are you. Most other people don't accept me like that for a while. At first, they're either awed or frightened about the emptiness of my body, or they simply don't know and are curious as to why I always wear a suit of armor. After a while, they sort of forget about it unless they're reminded of how I'm hollow inside.

But you're not like that. When you first saw me, you were surprised and frightened just like the others, but there was no awkwardness to it. You were simply concerned for my well-being, and as soon as I explained what had happened, you never looked at me strangely again. You looked at me as you always had, and you can't know how thankful I am for that.

Even back when we were kids, it always felt like you were my big sister. You'd play with me, scold me when I fought with Brother... I've always known that you love me. No, not like _that._ What a silly thought to think you'd love me like _that._ You love me like the sister you are to me. It doesn't matter that we have no blood relation. The connection is in our hearts. My heart, wherever it is, is connected to yours, and I think it always will be. Ah, such a comfort to know that I have a big sister! I think it was Mom who said, "Every little boy should have a big sister."

And that's why, in the darkness and almost utter silence of night, I realized with sudden clarity that I don't _ever_ want you to die. I think it would break my heart, Big Sister.


	15. Mustang to Ed

**Spoilers: Chapters 5-7**

**Pairings: None **

**Author's Note: I hope I didn't make Mustang too mushy in this one, but I think he really does care about Ed. No matter how much they insult each other, you can tell they're actually quite good friends. I followed the manga with this one; it provided a moment where Mustang frowns and says, "Oh no. Confirm whether the Elric brothers are still at their lodgings!"**

**Written on request for Syolen. **

There was a day I realized I don't want you to die, believe it or not.

When we first met, I'll admit that I only saw you as a tool, something to be used to push myself higher. My reasoning was that if I became known for finding alchemists who would join the military, it would give me a good reputation. I suppose I should have known I couldn't continue to view you in that manner, not after you took the exam and began your duties as my subordinate. It's a strange trend in those I've chosen as my subordinates: they become...my dearest friends.

I never imagined you would be added to their ranks; from the moment I met you in Central, we...well. To put it bluntly, I considered you nothing but an annoying, loud-mouthed brat. A brilliant prodigy of a brat, but a brat nonetheless.

When did that change? Perhaps it never changed; perhaps I always liked you more than I told myself and everyone else. I suppose it can't be helped. You are my subordinate, and I've always cared more for my subordinates than is perhaps wise for someone with my ambitions.

The day when I realized all this was already stressful enough. It was raining, for starters, and to make matters worse there was an extremely embarrassing incident I had to handle: Shou Tucker and his chimera-daughter had been killed by the serial killer known only as 'Scar.' Hughes had just mentioned that the only well-known State Alchemists in the area were myself and Tucker, but suddenly I realized: you were here as well.

All my insides went cold at the thought that you and your brother could be walking blithely about the city, not knowing you were tailed by a killer so powerful he could even kill Brigadier General Gran, a master of close combat. The thought of you, dead...lying there in a pool of blood as red as that coat you always wear... Allow me to merely say I masked my fear by shouting orders and hurrying in pursuit of Scar.

As I sat, tense and tight, in the back seat of a car rushing to intercept Scar, I asked myself why this had shaken me so. I guess the simplest answer to that would be that I didn't want you to die. I've realized, with increasing clarity, that you mean more to me than simply another step on the ladder to greatness. You're a friend now, as much of a friend as Hughes, Havoc, or any of the others are. It's odd to be very close friends with someone who's about fourteen years younger and – forgive me, but it's true – about a foot and a half shorter than I am, but oddities flourish around you, I think.

I half wondered, on the way to the scene of the crime, if I was going to say, "I don't want you to die," right in front of everyone. Instead, I found myself saying calmly, "That was a close one, Full Metal." What an odd way to let you know I care. But as I've said before, oddities flourish around you.


	16. Ed to Mustang

**Spoilers: Chapter 63**

**Pairings: None **

**Author's Note: I had _way_ too much fun writing this, I must admit. I've never actually written much about Ed's view of his relationship with Mustang, but I've discovered it's quite fun to write **

**This is the last one I've had an idea for. I am still open to suggestions for pairs of people to write about, and circumstances for those pairs. If I write more, I'll see you next time. If not, thanks for reading!**

**Written on request for Syolen (your line: FINALLY!!) **

Oh great, here I go... There was a day I realized I don't want you to die.

First, let me set a few things straight. I am not going to say this out loud to you. _Ever._ This does _not_ mean I'm going to stop annoying you whenever possible, because you're still a stupid, idiot Colonel, and I doubt that will ever change. So don't go lording this over me. Got that? Good.

Here's how it goes. I borrowed some change from you (520 cenz, as you _ever_ so kindly reminded me), and later you demanded I give it back to you. Idiot, you're trying to become Fuhrer, aren't you? How on earth is 520 cenz that important?!

Anyway, I counted out the money since I'd just been to the bank the day before, but as I stared at the little silver-colored coins in my palm, I thought about your big-shot ambitions. I'd just recently learned of them from First Lieutenant Hawkeye, and I'll admit they made a lot of things plainer. We disagree on...well, just about everything, but this was one thing I agreed with wholeheartedly. You want to become the Fuhrer, and it actually has nothing to do with a lust for power. Strange, you seem exactly the type to covet such a position for selfish reasons, but your reasons are anything but selfish. It's not that you want to lord over other people and make their lives miserable – though you do plenty of that now, I must say. You want to become Fuhrer so you can help other people, protect those who can't protect themselves. And that's exactly the type of leader this country needs.

Okay, all right, fine. I'll admit it. When I heard why it was you wanted to become Fuhrer, I felt respect for you. Happy now? Gonna lord it over me some more? Just because I respect you (a little bit) doesn't mean I have to like you! I still hate the sight of your face, I'll have you know.

Back to the story! I looked at the coins in my palm, thought about your ambitions, and I thought of what Lieutenant Hawkeye had said once her tale was done. She said it would be a good thing to change this country from a military state to a peaceful country, but if that happened you and many other soldiers could legitimately be executed as mass murderers. How unjust. I understand why you could be executed, but as I said to Lieutenant Hawkeye, you people should care a bit more about your own happiness, too. If you did, you'd actually be ensuring the happiness of a bunch of other people. Okay, myself included.

I wouldn't miss your self-satisfied smirk, that's for sure, but I realized as I stared at the coins that I'd miss a few other things about you if you died. They're stupid things to miss about someone, but...dare I say...stupidity flourishes around you. At the cost of sounding incredibly lame, I think I'd miss your stupid voice – insults, 'short' comments, and all – the most. It's become a familiar voice in the past few years, and it's a bit nicer listening to your voice than the voices of some other people I could name. I'll give you that much, at least. In a world of conniving, depraved adults, it's nice to know one man that I can...well, trust, I guess. I know that you care way too much about your subordinates for your own good, and while it might be foolish, it's essential for your goals. And...it's kind of a comfort, seeing how I'm under you and everything.

I keep on rambling off in weird directions, so I'll get to the point. I realized I don't want you to die before reaching your goal of becoming Fuhrer. And so I kept the debt I owe to you. If 520 cenz is that important to you, maybe it'll keep you alive a little longer. I don't know what lies on the path ahead of us, but always remember this: The ruder you are, the luckier you are. So keep insulting me, you stupid idiot Colonel.


End file.
